


God, I hate Shakespeare !

by Cithium



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Funny ?, General Audience but with some swearing, I laughed evilly while I wrote it, I swear it is an happy ending, M/M, Reason why Crowley hates tragedies, Romeo and Juliet References, Slow Burn, Their story is like this play, bad words etc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:27:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cithium/pseuds/Cithium
Summary: Crowley inspired many times humanity, not that they lack in originality, but everything has a source of inspiration. However, there was one play he inspired the author without wanting it and he regretted it so much after.Be damned William fucking Shakespeare and his "best" play Romeo and Juliet.





	God, I hate Shakespeare !

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone ! I always wanted to write a fanfic for this amazing fandom because I have so many ideas ;-; I already started the other ideas, but they are quite long so I concentred on the shorter ones and here we go !
> 
> It is not my first fanfic, but it is in English ! I am sorry in advance if you find errors, but I checked and another friend did ( Thank you Tao !!! ) so there should be that much ! ( Tell me if you see some ! )
> 
> I preferred to warn, no, I did not read Romeo and Juliet ( I could to find some verses, maybe if I do I will actualize it ? ), but I did for Hernani. I make some searches too to be sure I am correct in the dates with Hamlet ( because Crowley announces he does not like tragedies at this moment ) : Hamlet was written in 1603 and Romeo and Juliet in 1597. The title is a reference to a musical "Something Rotten", a story with Shakespeare in it and I love the song "God, I hate Shakespeare !". And, there is a subtle reference to Singing in the Rain ( Yes, I know, why is it there ?!!! ), just a cheesy line that I liked.
> 
> ANYWAY, good lecture and see you at the end !

There was a good reason for why Crowley did not like tragedies.

During Antiquity, he did like them. He found them ridiculous that while the whole audience was crying, he was laughing at death. More than one time, he was throw out of the amphitheatre, until he was just forbidden to assist to any representation. So many things just happened during one day, so many _ bad _things that it seems so impossible unless a demon was present to make them happen. Everybody just died miserably and so quickly. It was more a comedy than a tragedy for him.

But that was until the one who was considered for many as a genius and the best dramatist of all times just write one of the most known, played, adapted, inspired, the most tragic love story of all time.

Romeo and Juliet, by William _ fucking _ Shakespeare.  
  


* * *

Crowley would often boast on the fact that he inspired many artists for their art through centuries, inventing stories, posing for painters, saying things that playwrights will then use for their plays.

But sometimes, he prefers that people don’t use him as an inspiration.

He did not even mean to inspire the man. He was just at a bar, drunk as a lord, drinking to forget that an _ angel _ will never love him because he was a _ demon _. He did not mean to shout so loud to attract the attention of a young dramatist who thought that even if he looked pathetic, his story could do a very good playmaking people cried enough to make a second Flood.

As soon as the man sits at Crowley’s table, the demon just told him that he met an _ angel _ in a place where the food was luxurious, that he felt as if he was making court to the sky, where his angel was lying in _ Heavens _, too divine for him. But unfortunately, both of their sides, their family would certainly not permitted their union, because their families hated each other. If the sky would allow him to confront all the people who would not permit their union, he will fight them, no matter what. But if he saw that their love hurt his angel, he prefered to die than causing to his love such pain.

And of course, the young man just wrote everything down before excusing to his friends that he will not stay, because he just had a brilliant idea for another play.

The day after, Crowley woke up, without any memories of the last night, because he forgot to sober up.

* * *

A few months later, Aziraphale invited him to see a play with him, a _ tragedy _, because he knows how much the demon love it.

He will deny until the stars turn cold, but he blushed as he realized that Aziraphale remembered this detail about his tastes in plays.

But maybe he should have sober up this night, or even he should not have to drink _ at all _.

He knew Shakespeare, of course. A promising young man. But certainly not promising to make him suffer like that. Even the flames of Hell were sweeter than that. Because suddenly he remembered so very _ well _ what he had said to him.

So he sat there, besides Aziraphale, saying _ nothing _ and not laughing at all. The angel was to absorb by the play to notice the strange behaviour of the demon who was thinking of a way to make Shakespeare pay for his insolence.

The end makes the imagination for the payment for Shakespeare just worse.

\- Oh Crowley, what a beautiful story ! said Aziraphale, not noticing the smoke getting out of Crowley’s ears, too preoccupied to dry his tears. Shakespeare did surpass himself this time, don’t you think dear? But it is so unfortunate that they did not have a good ending. They deserve to have one. Oh ! You know, my dear, it reminds me … Crowley?

\- William Shakespeare, you little shit, I hope that you prepared your tomb because I am coming for you, murmured behind his teeth the demon making his way to see the dramatist.

He needed to discuss with him, plus, he did not want to know the end of the sentence of Aziraphale. This night was enough a nightmare.

* * *

* * *

**After-Apocalypse**

Aziraphale was so happy to have his bookshop back. He was not there when it burned down, and gladly, he did not see the state after the flames devoured the building. And Adam did an incredible job for a young Antichrist, no book missings only some additional ones!

It has been a few weeks after the Apocalypse and the Trial. Aziraphale passed his time reading the new books, as some old ones. He discovered some manuscripts of old plays that he thought were lost with Alexandria’s Bibliotheque! Even some extracts of the beginning of a piece but never finished.

Crowley came more after all these events. To take the angel to a diner. Or to tell another mischief he had done to which he was proud of himself, even if he had no obligations to Hell, he liked to cause trouble in people’s life. To have a drink with the angel and too drunk to go back to his place, and _ surprisingly, _ we could not sober up anymore, so Aziraphale proposed to just stay here and sleep here if he wishes. It is not like if the angel just miracle up a room with a bed upstairs of his bookshop, especially for Crowley.

Others days and these were the ones Aziraphale prefered, Crowley would just show up, wanting company and laid down on the couch, his head resting on Aziraphale lap while he was reading and unconsciously, letting his hand not holding his book wavering in the demon’s hair.

But this night, Crowley was not here, he lifted Aziraphale back to his bookshop after a lovely dinner at a new place, and turned down the invitation to some wine, saying he had a little mischief to do but that he will be here tomorrow.

And so the angel was awfully alone, in his bookshop, laying on his couch, sipping his cocoa and reading Romeo and Juliet.

He loved this play, he loved every play of Shakespeare. But strangely, after this specific play, Crowley said that he did not like tragedies anymore. It was certain it was quite annoying of him to just explosion in laughing in a theatre while something so … well, _ tragic _ was happening. He tried to know why this change of opinion, and why suddenly, _ every single tragedy _ are now bad. But the demon would immediately menace the angel to rip his throat, and by time, it was less violent to become just a tentative to change the subject.

However, as he was reading the _ first edition _ , please, with all the annotation of Shakespeare, it became quite clear that it was familiar. Of course, he assisted to many representations of the play through time, with or without Crowley ( more without, he tended to make a cynical remark for each verse ). Even various adaptation and inspiration such as Hernani by Victor Hugo with who he met the first day of the representation, quite interesting by the fact the author wanted to create a new literature movement. He practised more his French for his occasion because he simply did not want to be thrown in a prison, _ again _.

So, he knew Shakespeare’s style quite well. But some lines seemed to be a bit off and he recognized someone else's style.

He was sure it was Crowley’s style.

Aziraphale knew perfectly well that the demon wrote things. He even possessed some of them, but not all. In fact, Crowley was making sure Aziraphale knew only a small amount of them, because, he did not want the angel to know that he wrote enough things to fill again a new Alexandria’s Bibliotheque. Besides, the demon certainly did not want the angel to realise there were other pieces about this love. It was not like if Crowley wrote lyrical poems, odes, believing he was Orpheus. Composed symphonies by following advice of Mozart. Painted canvas with Leonardo Da Vinci, remembering quite well the face of his love. Sculpted with the foolish hope he would be lucky as Pygmalion.

And the angel, as a good reader he is, quickly discerned a certain pattern in his writings, a specific theme which was love, impossible, unrequited love. And when he brought it to the demon, that he was a good romantic, he will just laugh at him, saying that it was only for his job, making broken hearts for Hell.

After that, the angel did not say anything on these creations. Such as he _ loved _ them, maybe even more than all other books he possessed. He knew the demon will mock him about that, saying he fooled him as he has done with the humans. And even more, he will not tell him he felt _ jealous _.

One of the partners on these writings often praised a beautiful creature, a _ blessed _ one, _ an angel _.

When he was reading these moments, he could not avoid feeling jealous, and possessive. It was only him that the demon could call him like that!

* * *

The more he was reading the play, the more he was sure, Crowley inspired Shakespeare.

He passed the night studying the play, reviewing other stuff he knew was made by Crowley’s hand. He did not see the night passed, determined to find all the little passage which he was sure was by the demon.

Something was still missing. His mind knew what, but he could not figure it out.

Until 7 a.m.

* * *

He could have called a cab, or miracle himself directly in front of Crowley’s apartment.

It is not like if he lives far from the bookshop. And maybe he should have because it was raining cats and dogs.

But he never felt like this.

He felt like if he could run for hours without his human body tired. Be like Icarus and fly high in the sky, until the sun hurts his wings. He wanted to shout what was laying in his heart, beating so fast, full of joy of what he found, what beautiful mystery he just discovered.  
  


There were not many people in the street yet. Only the one who had to go to work, some students making their way towards school. And those who saw him only saw a man in old clothes running with a bright smile, so bright it might compete with the shining sun.

But what is the shining sun on a summer day in comparison of a luminous smile showing unconditional love, who has been waiting for millenials to be finally free to express the love trapped in it?

The angel finally saw the building in Mayfair where Crowley’s apartment was. As Aziraphale did not have the patience to wait outside, he snapped his fingers and the door of the building opened. So he continued to run until he arrived at the correct floor and knocked quite energetically at the door.

\- Crowley ! I need to see you ! Now !

It seemed that he was starting to be tired, after his race to get there. He started to knock again, more forceful, calling the demon to get up and let him in. He could not miracle this door, it was protected by demonic spells, and it was only one time he went there, it is not like if the two of them passed most of their time here.

He heard the bolts on the door unlock and the door opened on a red-haired demon in black silk pyjamas, still a bit asleep.

\- ‘Zira ... why are you knockin’ like that ? said Crowley, yawning and tried to focus on the angel to realise he was panting and was soaking, he suddenly felt more awake, fearing something has happened. What happened ?! Is someone after you ?!

\- Dear, I … What? No! No, nobody is after me don’t worry! I just need to speak with you, now.

\- Now? Could not wait that I come over your place? It is what ? 4 a.m?

\- No, 7 a.m, maybe. And yes, now if you don’t mind dear. Said Aziraphale making his way into the apartment.

Crowley closed the door, mumbling “if you don’t mind”. Yes, he minded in fact, he was comfortable asleep before the angel just knocking like if the Devil was right behind him, which he thought for a moment, but apparently, everything was fine. He should maybe prepare some coffee, so he could deal with whatever Aziraphale wants to tell him.

\- So, you know that the young Antichrist, Adam, had miracle back my bookshop, as he did with you car and … Oh, hello beautiful things! As always, you are all perfect! And look at you…! exclaimed the angel when he saw all the plants.

\- Angel.

\- Mmh?

\- Remember what I told you when you came here?

\- Oh! Yes! Sorry …

\- So, about your bookshop and the Antichrist? You noticed that one of your books was not here anymore?

\- No! Only additional things! And speaking of additional … Aziraphale showed what he had in his hand, a book, protected by a _divine_ barrier to protect from the rain. He did not want it to be as soaked as he was.  
  


Crowley just froze at the sight of this _ damn _ book.

He might need some alcohol instead of coffee to cope with this. Or maybe not, he remembered too well what happened when he was dead drunk for this play. Plus, the odd that Aziraphale just discovered that it was based on his story was just equal to zero, no?

\- Please, no. You know I hate tragediessss, this one up above all the resssst, and certainly not at 7 a.m or whatever it isss now. Hide thisss from my eyesss, even a bible isss lesssss wicked to look at than thissss _ damn thing _.

\- This is, in fact, the manuscript from the direct hand of William Shakespeare! And there are all his notes about adding or erasing verses, supplementals things etc!

Oh, great. Was it his birthday or Christmas was here sooner? He did not remember he sent a letter to Santa Claus or whatever his name his, but if he did, surely this wish will not be there. It was his nightmare.

\- Yay, great for you, have a nicce reading while I return to sssleep, okay ? said the demon while starting to walk to his bedroom.

\- And, he noted that his story was inspired by the story of a red-haired man with strange black glasses!

Okay, G- Somebody just decided it would be fun to make him suffer even more. As he did not enough already.

\- I passed the whole night studied it. I noticed that some verses were off of Shakespeare’s style, and more the style of someone else. This person has a very peculiar pattern and specifics subjects in his works.

\- Aziraphale …

\- I know I don’t own every work from them, it is a shame because I do love them and their work.

The demon froze. He could not mean … He could not feel the same way … Yes, only in a friendly way but not …

\- I … I’ve always … been jealous of one character … This _ blessed creature, _ this _ angel _. The way they describe them in such poetic, way full of feelings. 

\- Pleassse, Aziraphale …

\- I know I am not wrong when I say it is you who wrote all of these masterpieces, nor that I am wrong about the fact you inspired Shakespeare for the play Romeo and Juliet. You don’t care if he took your idea, you gave inspiration to many artists. No, you were angry because he showed you an end you did not want.

\- If you're here only to mock me by analyzing thisss _ damned _ play and other _ ssstuff _, then leave! shout Crowley, facing Aziraphale, tears in his golden eyes. I know very well it isss imposssible that you and me can be together, I get it! Don’t wassste your breath to explain to me that - mmf!

Angels were known for their patience, or at least, that what humans thought. Aziraphale had immense patience, but sometimes, it could running very thin. He should directly say to the demon that yes, _ yes _, he loved him so much that his heart threatened many times to explode just by the sight of the demon, each breath he took seemed painful but it was a sweet pain.

Right now, he did not have the patience to resist one more millisecond to shut him up by kissing him.

Crowley was really surprised by this move, and his brain decided it could be a very good idea to shut everything down and just enjoy. He could do that, unquestionably, because these lips _ finally _ pressed against his was a _ blessed damned _ thing. But he needed to know that it was not a joke, nor a trick from Hell or whatever, but that was real.

\- I am terribly sorry my dear to took so long to realise that, but be sure that I love you with all my heart, body, and my soul. Declared the angel, closed to the face of the demon who froze again, he might just turn to ice at the end, but the blond-haired feel this change and his heart clenched, but not in this blissful pain. Oh! Maybe it was not me … I am sorry … I...

\- Repeat that.

\- … Wha… What?

\- These three words at the beginning, repeat them.

\- That … I love you?

\- Mmmmpf. Rambled Crowley, cheeks taking a pinkish blush.  
  


Aziraphale smiled, his heart soothed by the sudden anxiety he just guessed wrong when he had all the fact before his eyes during so long, but he was such an oblivious idiot. He took the face of Crowley between his hand, warm by embarrassment, and kissed his forehead.

\- I love you. A kiss on both eyes. I cherish you. A kiss on his nose. I adore you. And a kiss on his lips.

By the end of this sweet treatment, Crowley was crimson red, and Aziraphale feared he might combust in hellish flames.

  
\- My dear, are you alright? Asked innocently the angel, as if he was oblivious to the fact _ he _ was the one who caused the demon to take this shade. You seemed a bit - mmpf!  


It seems that demons can have their patience running thin too, even more, when a demon pinned for 6000 years for an oblivious angel.

Aziraphale made sure to catch up, and for the rest of the days.

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you liked because I liked to write it !
> 
> Please leave a comment and a kudo :DD


End file.
